


Strange Tidings

by quilleth



Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, judgy chaperones are judgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quilleth/pseuds/quilleth
Summary: This was not the pairing General Falon had expected to come of pressuring Duke Lyon to get married
Relationships: Lyon/Revaire Widow
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	Strange Tidings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eithe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eithe/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Love is Not All](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812168) by [Eithe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eithe/pseuds/Eithe). 



> This was written for the 2019 7kpp Secret Santa over on tumblr! I had fun playing around with the Matchmaker's Banquet and these characters! <3

When he had told Lyon he needed to get married, _she_ had not been whom General Falon had in mind. One of the nice quiet Arlish ladies would, of course, been ideal, what with the relations between Arland and Jiyel being less than perfectly amiable, but one from Wellin or even Corval would have been acceptable. The only place more chaotic than Revaire, so far as Falon was concerned, was Hise, and even then, he thought Lyon might have found at least one suitable young lady with whom to ally himself. But no, Lyon had settled on the Revairan lady who, if rumors were to be believed, quite possibly murdered her last husband. The fact that she even _had_ a first husband should have been enough to make her ineligible to attend the Summit; yet there she was, making her way amongst the other delegates with a determined smile. True, Lady Valeriya was currently endowed with a decent fortune in titles and land from said first marriage, as well as a pretty face, but Falon was certain that neither mattered at all to Lyon. Which meant, Falon surmised, sipping idly at his brandy, that something about her character and personality must have induced Lyon into the match, as incongruous as that seemed.

“And just _what_ has put you in such a contemplative mood this evening my dear general? If you keep frowning like that you’ll give yourself much more wrinkles you know.” Princess Jaslen snapped him out of his thoughts by thwacking him on the arm with her folded fan. She smiled at him, mischief glittering in her eyes.

“I was simply observing some of the delegates,” he replied, moving his arm deliberately out of fan reach.

Jaslen laughed. “Oh, pray tell which ones? They’ve proven to be such an interesting lot this year; I can understand the wish to observe them better, despite all your earlier protestations and abhorrence of drama.”

“Duke Lyon and Lady Valeriya, if you must know, though I fail to see why that should interest you so much as neither are from your country.”

Her smile, if anything, grew even wider. “Well that is where you are mistaken! True, neither are from Corval,” she said sounding almost disappointed. “But Lady Valeriya has proven herself to be a very intriguing, capable young lady, and her match with your duke is certainly a fortuitous one. But not, I’d warrant her best prospects!” When Falon bristled, she laughed, adding, “Oh no offense to your genius duke, but he’s not the most social, now is he. And I simply meant that Lady Valeriya seemed to have a close relationship with Prince Lisle, and a prince is certainly a better marital prospect than a duke, you know. It’s all so peculiar! Why would she choose to set her cap at a mere duke when she could eventually have been a queen? Silly girl!”

“And what of the prospects for Duke Lyon? The chit was married already once before, that in itself is bad enough, and does not reflect particularly well either on her or Revaire for sending her. Then there are all those rumors that she murdered that husband, which makes her even less suitable for any match here, let alone one with a highly ranked duke.”

“Psha, darling, everyone knows rumors aren’t always reliable when they’re so easy to start! Though it is such a strongly held one. Don’t they even have some silly nickname for her about it? Vixen or viper or something like that?” Jaslen’s eyes gleamed with a delight and energy they rarely —or never—held when she was usually talking to General Falon.

He blinked at her, disapproving for a moment before retorting, “ _Some_ of us are not so delighted by scandalous intrigues as to be in the habit of remembering silly animal related nicknames ascribed to potential murderesses, particularly when said women plan on marrying into one’s country.”

She tittered, “You might make it your business if you were from Corval and not Jiyel, General.”

“I fail to see how that could possibly be relevant when you could simply refer to people by their given names.”

“Of course you don’t,” Jaslen sighed. “Still,” she added, eyes roaming over the delegates that remained in case someone else caught her attention, “Only time will tell really. It still needs to be approved by the ambassadors and who knows how they’ll see things. Ooh, now what are those Hise delegates getting up to?!” She leaned forward in her chair to watch a group of the delegates from Hise and some others, apparently trying to smuggle a bottle of something either in or out of the banquet hall.

Across the hall, Lyon was scowling as he carefully considered his new—fiancée? Were they formally engaged or did that come after ambassador approval? No one had ever really explained how this would work, or if they had, he’d tuned them out. Valeriya had come along counter to all of his plans and assertions—and her question. “Hating to be…a spectacle is not the same as…”

“Hating me?”

“I…don’t regret it. I would have regretted it much more if it were someone else’s name being matched with yours.”

She didn’t quite beam at him in response, but she did smile in a way that Lyon was sure he would learn to know very well. “Yes, well, we appear to be a particularly interesting spectacle to our chaperones. What do you suppose they are saying about us, up on their lofty perch?”

Lyon followed her gaze and groaned. General Falon and Princess Jaslen were watching them with avid interest. “I’m sure I don’t want to know. Whatever it is, General Falon can hardly be annoyed with me now that I’ve done what he wanted and…well, chosen a match.” He diverted his gaze, scowling as heat spread over his cheeks.

Valeriya laughed, “I’m assuming it has more to do with your choice of the woman who murdered her first husband as a partner.”

“But you didn’t,” Lyon, meeting her gaze, stated, in some consternation.

“No, I did not.”

“I know. But—” He broke off,distracted and flustered by the soft smile Valeriya was giving him again and the heat creeping over his face, and, fairly certain that he might say something, not precisely stupid, but certainly embarrassing, in public. “I have to go,” he added, before scurrying away.

Falon, nearly empty brandy still in hand and finally left in peace, Jaslen distracted by the booze smuggling pirates, continued to watch as Lyon darted out of the hall with precipitate haste, Valeriya accepting the well wishes of some of the remaining delegates with an almost beatific smile. Hiding a grin behind finishing off his drink, he reflected, that although the match might not have been what he’d consider entirely suitable, he was fairly certain Lyon had almost smiled during his conversation with Valeriya, and given how rare it was to see, that was good enough approbation for him.


End file.
